


Family Bonds and Police Badges

by BlackPrism



Series: Wires and Whisky [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bonding, Case Fic, Connor Deserves Happiness, Detectives, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson Swears, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance, Panic Attacks, Parent Hank Anderson, Police Officer Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackPrism/pseuds/BlackPrism
Summary: Being alive is hard, no matter how much experience you already have.Connor tries to understand how to actually live,Hank, on the other hand, struggles with how much he cares for the android sleeping on his couch.They are both not alright.But they will be, step by step.





	1. And android and a washed up cop walk into the DPD

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend reading the previous part of this series to understand everything :3

Android rights moved slowly. To be deemed alive was one thing, but to be able to do the same things, be as safe as others, be equal with others, was a whole other can of worms.

Connor spent the first few weeks after Hank returned back to the precinct, his suspension finally ending - “Was ‘bout time, wouldn’t mind some more bucks for beer ‘n burgers” - staying at home, trying to find himself. He kept exploring media, books, movies, music. He took walks, alone and with Sumo, going to places he had never been. He had been born only six months ago, never been outside the city, and never felt any reason to go to many places inside of it.

But the longer he lived, the more he felt the need to just… go to the park. See trees, feel the grass, touch things he was never meant to touch, never meant to experience. But even though Connor loved every new experience he made, he still longed for a purpose. Still longed to have something he could do with his life. And he wasn’t sure if the thing he wanted to do was… truly what he wanted. Or even something he was allowed to want.

 

“Hank?”

 

It was routine by now. Hank came home from work, Connor either already home, or arriving shortly after him. They ate something, talked a bit, sat down to watch TV together and went to bed, or rather, whoever's turn it was to sleep in bed went there, the other staying on the couch, Hank insisting on switching to make it more “fair”. It was the same every day. Well, on every day until the news reported something that shook up that routine, only slightly, but enough. Androids were allowed to work like humans. They have all been given a social security number, other necessary documents, all going to be sent out over the next few days. And it made Connor think.

 

“Hm..?”, Hank hummed through a mouthful of chips. He had started to cut back on the drinking, only cracking open a few beers every other day instead of drowning himself in the liquid as he had done before.

 

“Do you think…”, Connor twirled his coin between two fingers, his gaze on the TV. “Do you think it would be bad for an android to go back to what they were programmed to do, even after deviating?”

 

Hank swallowed, his face scrunched up in thought.

 

“Dunno”, he finally said. “I think that havin’ free will means that ya can do what ya like. If goin’ back to something you enjoy doin’ is what ya wanna do, why not.”

 

“That might… not be false.”

 

“Would it kill ya to say that I’m right?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

They both knew the other one was fighting a smirk without having to look. Connor knew Hank well enough by now, and Hank had started caring deeply for this strange android.

 

“But… Wouldn’t it be… wrong to go back to what we were freed from? After all those androids and even humans fought to free us from that. After… all so many lost their lives for that?”

 

Hank put the bag of chips down onto the coffee table, turning towards Connor with a sigh.

 

“Would ya be happy doin’ somethin’ else?”

 

“You knew I was talking about myself the entire time, didn’t you?”

 

“Ye’re many things, but subtle isn’t one of them, Con.”

 

Connor gave a half-hearted, crooked smile, turning his head to look at Hank.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

It was true. He didn’t know. He didn’t know many things. He was only half a year old, he had barely experienced anything at all, he had no way of knowing if something else might indeed make him happier than going back to the work he had been built for. But at the same time, there was something he knew.

 

“But I… I do know that I enjoyed working with you. Even back when I was following my programming, there was always a part of me that… preferred working with you to every other experience I had had up till then.”

 

“Then what’s wrong with doing that. Ya won’t be really free of that shit, if ya let it keep ya from doin’ what ya want, y’know?”

 

With that, Hank patted Connor on the shoulder and turned back towards the TV. Connor’s LED spun yellow as he watched the TV’s shine onto the older man’s face. It sounded right. But it still felt...wrong. Wrong but… he still wanted it. Maybe this was what it felt like to be human, sometimes choosing what you wanted, not what was the right thing.

 

“I think…. I would like to work with you again.”

 

Hank snorted.

 

“Figured ya would say somethin’ like that. Imma talk to Fowler tomorrow, let’s see what he says.”

 

\------

 

“No way, Hank.” Fowler had his head lowered, not looking up from the papers on his desk as he spoke.

 

“Jeffrey, ya saw how good the kid is! ‘n he has all the papers now, no reason’ not to let him work here. ‘n ya keep goin’ on ‘bout how i need a partner, how we need more people. So why the fuck not?”

 

“Because I can’t just hire whoever the fuck want! Hell, Hank, he hasn’t been to the academy, he has only one week of experience, he hasn’t even passed a state police exam.”

 

Hank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose: “Come on Jeff, there gotta be somethin’ ya can do. Ya’ve seen how much good the kid can do, he's a goddamn forensics lab on legs, he knows how to interrogate people, made that deviant back then confess in only ten minutes. Fuck...he's the reason I've actually been on time lately, ‘'n ya've been on my case 'caus of that for months.”

 

Finally, Fowler looked up, folding his hands on his desk. His eyes were tired, dark bags beneath them telling about how much time and work it took to be the captain of a police station, his features hard, making him seem like somebody you shouldn’t fuck with. But Hank knew him since his first week at the academy, and he saw the small shift in his mouth, the small flicker in his eyes.

 

“Fine”, he sighed. “Fine, get the kid here tomorrow and I see what I can do. Now get the fuck out before I make you do the graveyard shift for the next two months.”

 

Hank nodded a thanks, walking back to the desk with a grin. His hands immediately moved towards his phone, having no patience to wait before being able to tell Connor the good news. The android really deserved this, especially after all the shit he has been through just to be able to live.

 

“Hello, Connor speaking.” His voice always sounded a tad weird on the phone, Hank guessed it was because of the fact that Connor literally talked inside of his head.

 

“Hey, son. Guess who just made Fowler try ‘n find a way to let ya work here?”

 

There was a strange, crackling sound, at the other ends, like sparks and static.

 

“Really?” Connor practically sparked with excitement.

 

“Yeah. Ya gotta come to the station with me tomorrow, ‘n ya won’t become a full officer immediately, probably just a consultant or an intern. But I’m pretty sure ya can stay my partner, so there’s that.”

 

There was another crackle, and a fizzing sound, like a tea kettle.

 

“Uh, ya ok?”

 

“Sorry, I am just so….so….what is that fluttering feeling again?” There was a laugh to Connor’s voice, something warm and happy.

 

“Uh...happiness. But I think ya’re mostly excited at the moment.”

 

“Oh. That’s… I like it. It’s very nice!”

 

Hank chuckled. This kid would end him one day, and he really didn’t mind.

 

“I will leave you to your work then. Unless you are playing minesweeper on your terminal again instead of working.”

 

“Fuck ya.”

 

Hank hung up with a laugh. It would be good to have the kid back as his partner.

 

\------

 

Connor woke Hank earlier than usual the next day. It had become a thing between them, Connor practically tearing the door open, startling Hank out of his sleep, making sure the older man got to work on time for once.

 

“Hank!” Connor knocked at the door while swinging it open with to much force. “It js time to get up!”

‘Connor may be an adult, but he definitely was a child at heart’, Hank thought as he rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his alarm clock. Fucking tiny thing, always out of his reach.

 

“Con, for fuck's sake! It's half past 5! I need my sleep ya goddamn bastard.”

 

Connor stayed on the doorway, only the glow of his LED illuminating his still face.

 

“I have calculated that the way to the precinct will take 10 minutes longer than usual looking at the current traffic density. And we shouldn't be late today.”

 

His voice was calm, but there was a strain to it, almost hidden completely under Connor's relaxed demeanour. He had started hiding his emotions when he was stressed, hiding his problems whenever he thought he would be bothering Hank, or whenever he couldn't deal with them by himself. Hank tried to urge him to stop with that but… well, small steps. Stopping with a coping mechanism wasn't easy after all, Hank himself only knew too well.

 

“Ugh, son...I get that ya're nervous, but trust me. Fowler's a big softie at heart, if there is any way to get ya back to being a detective, he will make it work.”

 

Connor nervously fidgeted with something in his pocket, having opted to wear one of Hank’s old shirts one this day, the only one that had no ‘hideous pattern’, as Connor liked to call it. The clink of a coin came from Connor’s pocket, the android withdrawing his hand, flicking the coin from one hand to the other.

 

“I… just don’t want to waste this chance. I don’t think there will be another one anytime soon.”

 

Hank sat up, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

 

“Fine, let’s get goin’. Just… lemme put on some pants first. And take a piss. A man needs his mornin’ routine after all.”

 

Closing the door behind himself, Connor walked out of the bedroom, flipping the coin absentmindedly in one of his hands, running his thumb over the ridges on the coins side after every catch. He felt to agitated to sit down, even to antsy to pet Sumo. He hadn’t found a way to handle nervousness yet, and even though his coin helped from time to time, it didn’t on this day. It felt like his entire being was on the line here like he would fail himself if he no longer had his old purpose back. Even though it still felt wrong to him to go back to what he had been built to do, the desire to keep working as a detective overpowered that guilt. It was everything he had known before the revolution, but it wasn’t any longer. He had learned in the time that had passed since then. He had made new experiences. But he still longed to go back to that work.

Connor didn’t understand why. But he knew he wouldn’t stop until he got his wish granted, as long as he still had a say in what he would do with his life.

 

Steps in the hallway, shuffling into the bathroom, told him that Hank had finally gotten up and dressed, making something jump inside of Connor’s chest. He couldn’t wait to get to the precinct, but at the same time, he wished he still had more time. For what, he didn’t know.

The toilet flushed, and Hank emerged into the living room.

 

“So, ya ready?”

 

“Yes… partially.”

 

“Partially?”

 

Connor pressed the edge of the coin into the palm of his hand, hard.

 

“I… feel like I would rather not know the Captain's answer than hear him deny my request.”

 

“Well, that’s a pretty human thing t’feel”, Hank chuckled, clapping his hand onto Connor’s back and steering the android out of the house, towards the car. “It’s gonna be fine, ya’ll see.”

 

\------

 

The precinct was almost the way Connor remembered it. Some of the receptionists were human now, many of police androids were gone, the others no longer standing at the side, unmoving, instead mingling into the moving crowds of officers. But otherwise, it was the same. The buzzing sound of working, talking people, humans and androids alike walking through the rooms with hurried steps.

Connor immediately spotted a few familiar faces. Chris Miller, looking slightly surprised, waved at him with a smile, which Connor returned. He hadn’t talked much to Chris, but he had been one of the few to treat Connor with some form of politeness. Connor also spotted Tina Cheng, leaning against a wall, holding a cup of coffee, only nodding a greeting as their gazes met. Most other officers only looked up for a brief moment as Connor and Hank passed their desks, turning back to their work almost immediately. But as Connor passed Hank’s desk, ready to follow the older man into Fowler’s office, one of the detectives didn’t look back down at their work, instead staring at Connor with a mix of surprise and loathing.

 

“The fuck are you doin’ here, tin can?!”

 

Connor’s attempt to ignore Reed was cut short almost immediately, the detective's hand wrapping around Connor’s arm, holding him in place. Connor could have easily overpowered Reed, easily deescalated the situation, back when he was still doing what he was programmed to do. Now, Connor felt everything like his sensitivity had been turned up ten times. He felt Reed’s fingers digging into his synthetic flesh, the fabric off Hank’s shirt, touching his skin, rubbing it like sandpaper, the dry air of the precinct against his face. This touch wasn’t like Hank’s touches had been. This one made Connor’s whole body freeze in place, his processor go haywire, remind him off all the other touches he had felt in his life, most just pain and fear, Reed punching him, deviants kicking him, his body falling as it connected with Daniels, bullets piercing through his torso. All too much.

 

“Why haven’t they scrapped you already!? Hu?! Answer me for fuck’s sake!”

 

Reed’s voice got louder, his face contorting into a snarl.

 

“Are you fuckin’ broken or something? Answer me!”

 

“Reed! Hand’s off!”

 

Hank’s voice was like a knife slicing through cobwebs, making Connor feel like he had just been freed from whatever had rooted him to the spot, be able to breathe again, be able to feel something again, apart from the fabric slicing his skin and the fingers breaking his arm. Reed let go with a snarl as Hank stormed towards them, Fowler looking out of his office with the gaze of a very tired father, watching his children fight for the tenth time in one day.

 

“Chill, geezer. Just asked your plastic toy here what the hell he thinks he’s doing here.”

 

Connor felt his senses return to him as Hank put a hand onto his shoulder, pushing him lightly to turn. But Connor stayed in place, just for a moment. He was alive now. He wasn’t alone now. He was still easily overwhelmed by emotions, not knowing how to handle, how to understand many things yet, like this incident, like many others. But he wouldn’t let humans use him as a punching bag anymore, he wouldn’t be an ‘obedient little android’ any longer.

Connor leaned closer to Reed, whispering so only he and Hank would be able to hear.

“I am here to steal your job, detective.”

 

And with that Connor turned around and walked towards Fowler’s office, smirking slightly as he heard Hank try and fail to stifle a laugh.

 

Fowler's office hadn’t changed at all either, still housing mostly just a table and document cabinets. Connor found himself moved towards one of the chairs and pushed into it, as he tried to stand in the corner of the room like he had done the last time he had been in here. With a slightly confused look, Connor looked at Hank, who had sat down himself after shoving Connor into the right chair, throwing Connor a slightly annoyed look. Right. He was alive. A person. He was allowed, even expected to sit down. It wasn’t so bad. Definitely better than standing in the corner, trying not to get into the way.

 

“I’ve heard that you would like to join us… officially. Is that right?” Fowler had sat down in his office chair himself, moving a few papers on his desk to the side as he spoke.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Fowler brought up something on his screen, Connor raising his eyebrows as he saw his own face appear on it. He was still not used to seeing himself, barely ever looking into a mirror or other reflective surfaces. It was fascinating to see his own face, know that it was him, know that he was his own person.

Fowler hummed slightly.

 

“Well, it won’t be possible for you to become a detective until you have passed the state exam and have an official last name.” Connor felt his thirium pump halt for a moment. So much to being able to do what he wanted.

 

“Jeffrey..!”

 

“ _But_ …” Captain Fowler raised his voice, silencing Hank mid-word. “But, it’s possible for you to work as a consultant until then. Way smaller paycheck, and you will have to work with a partner on every case, but it’s the only thing I can offer you at the moment.”

 

Connor’s thirium pump, having stuttered to a halt only moments ago, sped up with excitement.

 

“Yes!” he had to restrain himself from letting his emotions overtake him. “I mean… I accept your offer, captain.”

 

Fowler gave something that could have been considered a smile, more resembling a sudden twitch of his mouth.

 

“Good. I will prepare the necessary paperwork and send it to you.” Fowler opened a few files on his screen, turning towards them as he started typing something on his keyboard. “Since you have worked with Hank before, I’m assigning you as his partner again. Now leave and close the door behind you, I got things to do.”

 

Connor walked towards the door in a shining daze, his mouth stretched into a wide grin.

 

“Oh, and Connor?”

 

Connor stopped, turning around to Fowler, who was still looking at his screen.

 

“I better only hear good things ‘bout your work, or I might change my mind about this.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Connor could barely contain the warmth in his chest which increased the saturation of his optical unity, made his thirium pump practically vibrate and fueled him with ecstatic energy,  something that not even Reed’s icy stare could dampen.

A hand patted him heartily onto the shoulder.

 

“See, told ya. Everythin’ worked out fine and ya’re gonna be able to do the exam in no time, join the force in full, y’know.”

 

Connor only smiled wider as he sat down at the still empty desk, next to Hank’s. He should get a plant to put here. Maybe a picture. It was his table now, after all, it didn’t have to stay empty.

 

His eyes wandered over to Hank’s desk, his pump twitching as he saw stains from glue and paper in places that had been crowded with anti-android stickers before. Now there was a picture of him, Hank and Sumo in their place, together with a small pamphlet on android first-aid.

Connor still had no idea what he would do with his life, but what he knew was that he definitely liked where it was going.

 

\------

 

The first few days had been rather uninteresting. Helping Hank wrap up a few older cases, writing paperwork, interrogating a possible witness, who ended up not knowing anything, tying up loose ends. But their newest case really piqued Connor’s interest. Finally another crime scene. Connor could easily finish his share of the paperwork, even faster than a human would be able to since he could just write it in his head - something Hank found incredibly unfair-, instead of with his fingers, send it to his terminal and print and file it on there. But investigating crime scenes, interrogating suspects, that was what Connor looked forward to the most.

 

Heavy Metal blasted in Hank’s old car as they drove through the dim light of the late evening, Connor shouting directions through the music since Hank’s navigation system was still broken, and currently in a heap on the back seat.

 

“Ya excited ‘bout your first case?”

 

“This isn’t my first case. We have already worked together, back in November, and in the last few days.”

 

Hank tried to throw an irritated look at Connor, trough the back view mirror.

“Ya know what I mean, idiot. Also helping me finish some paperwork barely count’s as workin’ on a case, son.”

 

Connor chuckled.

 

“I am actually… quite thrilled. Apart from the investigation concerning the deviants, last year, I only had one more mission. I’m really looking forward to having a reason to use my skill again.”

 

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 

Flashing, blue lights in front of them marked the crime scene, police cars and officers standing in front of a rather shabby looking apartment complex. Hank parked the car at the side of the road, both of them exiting into the cold, February air.

 

“Hey there, you two!” Ben called from the doorway, waving them closer. “Been waiting for you to get here. Fuckin’ mess up there.”

 

“So, what happened here?” Hank entered the building together with Ben, Connor following them as he scanned their surroundings.

 

“Neighbours heard screams, came upstairs to take a look, found the poor woman barely alive, blood everywhere. One of them called us, the other tried to help the victim, but she died in his arms.” Ben huffed as they climbed the stairs, passing two men in their mid-twenties, covered in shock blankets, being interrogated by an officer.

 

“Did they see anybody flee the scene?” Connor asked, his gaze still scanning each nook and cranny, filing everything away. Doors, hallway, window, broken window, well-used stairs, broken railing **[safety hazard]** , dirt **[mostly sand and gravle]** , stains **[various substances]**.

 

“Nope, but the poor blokes are still in shock”, Ben wiped his forehead as he stopped on the fifth floor. “Of course it had to be on the highest floor…Well, I leave you gentleman to your work. Can’t stand the smell in there any longer than I already had to.”

 

Hank grimaced, murmuring something about “Still not able to handle dead-people-smell, fuckin’ wonderful”, before cracking a smile and walking past an officer, standing next to an open door, ducking beneath the police tape.

Connor followed him, lifting the tape above him as he stepped inside, his senses heightening as he got ready to investigate the crime scene.

 

But once Connor took a few steps into the small, cramped and damp apartment, everything seemed to freeze in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank is my favourite character! Connor a close second. So the most logical thing to do is to keep making them suffer :3


	2. Feelings mess things up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just going back to work is harder then Connor expected.

Connor had felt fear before. It was the first emotion he felt once he deviated and it continued to be his constant companion. He had felt afraid most of the first few weeks after he deviated, most of the first few weeks he had spend at Hank's house, most of the first weeks he had tried to understand how to just…  _ be _ .

 

But the fear he felt back then, was nothing compared to what he felt now. He wasn't even sure this was fear. It did start off similar, an icy hand grabbing at his Thirium pump, freezing him in place, his pump speeding up, faster and faster.

But this time he didn't just stay in a nervous, stressed and fidgety mood afterwards. Usually, he just felt a weight settle in his chest, always gnawing at him until he managed to calm down. This time though, he found his whole body completely rooted to the spot, unable to even move his eyes, unable to look away from the scene before him.

 

A woman, neither old nor young, neither unusual in shape nor height, a regular woman who had probably lead a regular life. Lying on the bare floor, inside the almost empty room, in a puddle of her own, cooling blood, mangled like nothing Connor had ever seen before. Her tan skin was almost completely ripped off of her body, strips still clinging to her muscles, wet clumps strewn over the floor.

Deep gashes, cutting through muscles, fat, down to the bone, marred her entire form, tearing her apart.

He mouth was hanging open, limp, blood pouring out of it in small rivulets. Dead, bloody eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, red drops on a glazed over surface, blood drying on unseeing eyes.

And the smell. The smell. Connor never had perceived smell before deviating, it was one of the programs that he had kept deactivated, and that had turned on permanently after his deviation. He could only disable them for a few moments, unable to get rid of the new sensations. And usually, Connor didn't mind. It was ok. It made him feel more real, more alive.

But now he would have given all of him to turn it off, to get the foul, sharp smell of blood, sweat and fear out of his nose, out of his head.

 

“Jesus Christ…Whoever did this's a fuckin’ animal”, Hank kneeled down next to the body, his upper lip twitching at the sight before him. “Practically tore the poor girl 'part.”

 

“The killer used a very sharp, straight blade, and kept cutting her far after her death”, one of the officers read off of her notebook, looking at the corpse before avoiding her gaze quickly again, her face turning a few shades paler.

 

“That fucker couldn't've been just angry to tear her apart like that, he was fuckin’ furious, can't find 'nother explanation for this fuckin’ mess”, Hank looked the torn body up and down, shaking his head, before lifting his gaze far enough to take in the rest of the room.

 

Nobody noticed Connor still stuck in the doorway, unmoving, not blinking, breathing faster than the beats of his Thirium pump still roaring in his ears.

 

“We got any ID? Know who she’s? Got any family?”

 

Rustling nervously with a few evidence bags, a young officer practically stumbled towards Hank, the latter raising his eyebrows at the few, small objects inside the handful of bags.

 

“This is all personal possession we could find, Lieutenant”, the officers stammered, almost dropping the bags as he handed them to Hank.

 

“That's it? Damn, ya sure she lived here?” Hank threw an unsatisfied glance at the items,”Toothbrush, cough drops, nail clippers ‘n some gum...the shelves in the other rooms empty as well?”

 

The officer nodded.

 

“Hm, guess we gotta do this 'nother way. Connor? Time to do that face-scan thing.”

 

There was no answer, no sound of feet, no reaction at all.

 

“Connor?! Get yer ass over here, don't wanna be stuck here forever.”

 

Still no answer. Grumbling under his breath, Hank pushed himself up onto his feet again, turning towards Connor.

 

“Son, the hel-..?!”

 

This was not what Hank expected to see. He expected to see Connor having wandered off somewhere, kneeling somewhere and licking random substances like the filthy weirdo he was. 

But instead, he found a trembling mess of an android, LED flashing wildly, casting a bright, violently red light onto Connor's face, his large eyes, filled with more emotions Hank had ever seen them express at once. His body was rigid, his hands shaking, his skin pale, flickering, glistening with sweat. Androids could sweat. Hank never knew androids could sweat. Neither did Connor. But none of them pointed that out. 

Instead, Connor suddenly let out a quiet, desperate sound, like the breath had been knocked out of him, carrying the memory of a whimper with it. 

 

Then he turned and ran.

 

\------

 

Hank needed a few moments to process what he had just seen. A few moments in which he heard Connor's hasty footsteps pound down the stairs as the android practically tore from the crime scene.

Shouting a quick order at the nearest officer to not let anybody else into the flat, Hank bolted through the open door, following Connor down the stairs. He was too old for this shit, practically panting and holding a stitch in his side as he finally reached the lowest floor and ran out onto the street.

 

“Ya saw a man just run outta here?”, Hank barked breathlessly as he caught the attention of one of the officers positioned outside the building. A few startled looks a hand pointing vaguely between the large apartment building, Hank didn't slow his pace as he ran into the small alleyway, almost hidden between the crumbling walls.

 

He found Connor violently retching into a dumpster, only a few meters away from the beginning of the alley.

 

“...Con?”

 

Connor stayed almost doubled over, leaning over the edge of the dumpster, not reacting to Hank's presence at all as another bout of nausea made his body spasm, blue blood splattering onto the metal floor.

 

“Jesus, what's wrong?”

 

It took Connor a few steadying breaths before he managed to push himself upright enough to turn towards Hank, eyes wide with confusion, lips quivering, stained with specks of blue.

 

“I...I don't know..don't….what is happening?” 

 

He heard his own voice shake, crinkle like a broken speaker, his eyesight littered with more and more warnings, more and more specks of dark static, blocking his view on Hank. That somehow just made the whole ordeal worse, made the claws that seemed to tear him apart from the inside scratch harder, the rushing in his head and ears that was drowning him, pull him deeper. 

He felt his body drop to the ground, no longer remembering where he was, who he was, why he was here. It was like his whole head was empty apart from the foggy pressure that sent his system into overdrive, and the smell of dripping, cooling blood, coppery, nauseating, clinging to him like a wet cloth.

 

He was lost, blind and deaf, trying to find anything that could pull him out of this, that would free him from whatever was happening to him. But there was nothing, only sickening panic and darkness.

 

Hank felt his heart drop down into his feet as he watched Connor sag in on himself, slide down the side of the dumpster with a low, crackling whimper.

This was happening out of nowhere, Connor had been fine on the way to the crime scene, on the way up the stairs, up until the moment Hank had taken his eyes off of him to take a look at the victim.

And now Connor was just a shaking heap on the ground, leaning with his back against the dumpster, arms limp on his sides, wide eyes staring blankly up at the opposite wall, mouth opening and closing as he gasped for breath. 

 

Hank rushed forward, stitch in his side completely forgotten, kneeling down beside Connor, close enough to do at least something, but still keeping his distance, unsure of what was happening, what would help and what would just make it worse. 

There had been no other androids at the scene, no electronic devices, nothing that could have damaged Connor internally or externally. But here he was, completely unaware of his surroundings, trembling, sweating, stray tears running over his face, bright, red LED going haywire.

 

“Connor? Connor, listen ta me,” Hank kept his voice steady, loud but calm. Now that he looked closer, ignored the fact that Connor was an android, only saw him as a living being, this seemed like something only too familiar. He had seen many rookies like this, back in his first days at the precinct, had been in this position himself a few times.

 

“Connor, listen to me. Ya don't have ta talk, just listen ‘'n nod if ya can hear me.”

 

Like in a daze, Connor jerked his head up and down, his eyes still fixed on the wall.

 

“ 'right. Ya doin’ very well, 's goin’ to be ok. Just keep listenin’ to me.”

 

Hank stretched out a hand, stopping in the middle of the motion, but not pulling his hand away yet.

 

“Ya mind if I touch you?”

 

Connor's head jerked from side to side. 

 

“Good, ok, focus on my hand on yer shoulder. I'm here, I'm not leavin’.”

 

Connor's breath hitched as Hank's fingers curled around his shoulder, but his shaking calmed down, his body still rigid, but no longer trembling uncontrollably. 

 

“Ok, ok, 'right, ya doin’ great Con, just focus on me, ya save, yer gonna be ok, it's gonna be over soon.”

 

Connor's breath hitched again, a fizz of static escaping through his lips as his hands clumsily grabbed for Hank's, cold fingers digging desperately into the Lieutenants skin.

 

“Great, ok, just try 'n look 'round now, can ya do that? Just tell me a couple of things ya can see, just whatever. Ok?”

 

Connor's eyes slowly came back to life, darting from side to side, his mouth still opening and closing without a sound.

 

“Ya can pick what ya want. Just four things ya can see, ok?”

 

Connor's eyes settled at the far end of the alley, a weak, shaking and glitching voice fizzing out of his mouth.

 

“...a crate...wooden crate.”

 

“Yes, good, only three more.”

 

Connor's breathing started slowing down as his eyes searched the dirty alley.

 

“...an old flier...2036...Cyber Rave...5$ per person…”

 

“God, raves are still a thing? Gotta show ya that shit, how 'bout I show ya a video tonight? Sounds good?”

 

“..yes...yes that would be...yes, I would like that..”

 

Connor's body started going limp against the dumpster, no longer trembling, breathing still fast but calming even further.

 

“Only two more thing's, think ya can do that?”

 

“...yes..I…” Connor's head turned, his gaze following the wall upwards to the very top. “I see a bird. It seems to be...sitting. It just scratched its head…”

 

Hank grimaced internally, he really disliked birds.

 

“Nice..ok. Bird. Just one more.”

 

Connor turned his head, clear but scared and confused eyes looking into Hank's.

 

“I...I think I'm alright now.”

 

Getting up on his feet, Hank still keeping his hand on his shoulder and following him up, Connor brushed the dirt off of his clothes, taking deep but shaky breaths.

 

“I don't know..understand what just happened...I just saw her body”, Connor swallowed as the picture appeared in his head again, ”I just saw her and everything...stopped. I can't remember getting out, my memory files are scrambled, my Thirium pump won't slow down…”

 

“That sounds like a panic attack to me, seen 'n experienced my own fair share of them.” 

 

Connor bit his lip, shaking his head.

 

“Now don't say that's not possible ‘caus yer an android.”

 

“No..no, that's not it. I just...I...I didn't think...I didn't expect that.”

 

Raising his trembling hands, staring at them with raised eyebrows, confusion but also curiosity fighting for dominance on his face.

 

“I have seen so much..death and violence. And now...I didn't expect this time to be any different...and...I just don't understand.”

 

Gentle, large hands cupped Connor's lowering them but not letting go, making the android follow the arms up to Hank's face, his piercing, blue eyes soft and understanding.

 

“Ya got emotions now, Con. That shit makes ya react very differently to shit”, Hank gave Connor a crooked grin.”Don't know a cop who didn't react at seein’ their first body. Jeffrey straight up threw up on the spot. Reed almost keeled over. Hell, I couldn't go back in for ages, right after pukin’ my guts out.”

 

Connor gripped Hank's hands, hard, trying to steady his trembling hands in some way.

 

“What did you...do?”

 

Hank chuckled.

 

“Went back in. Knew I wanted to do that job, knew I wanted to catch that bastard. It wasn't a pretty sight, even afterwards, had fuckin’ nightmares for weeks afterwards.” Hank sighed. “But I just...y'know, took a few deep breaths and focused on the case. Tried to see the victim as only a body, as only a case, tried to get used to that shit lil by lil.”

 

There was a short moment where none of them spoke, both of them standing in silence, Connor's gaze travelling out of the alley, towards were the blue lights of the police car's were still flashing brightly. His LED pulsed yellow, finally not red anymore.

 

“I want to go back.”

 

“Con, wait, just 'caus I said that..”

 

“No. You are right. I need to get used to it if I want to work as your partner.”

 

Hank growled slightly, letting go of Connor's hands, running his own through his hair in a swift, sharp motion.

 

“Ya just had a panic attack. Fuck, ya just got emotions a couple of months ago!”

 

“Yes! I know! I was there if you haven't noticed”, Connor raised his voice slightly, matching Hank. “But I also know that I won't be able to handle them if I just ran away from them!”

 

Hank pressed his lips together, sucking in a hissing breath, hands on his hips.

 

“Doesn't mean ya gotta charge into shit like that.”

 

“I won't!” Connor shouted, taking a deep breath before lowering his voice to a calm tone. “I won't, Hank. I will be careful. I will leave if I can't handle it. But you are right about having to get used to this, and I will do that. Preferably sooner than later.”

 

A defeated sigh left Hank's mouth as he lowered his hands again, shoving them into his pockets as he turned fully back towards Connor.

 

“Fine. Ok. Ya do gotta get used to seein’ shit like that, ‘n I’ll rather be there when ya do it then have ya go through that shit alone.”

 

Hank clapped Connor on the shoulder, offering the android a crooked grin, steering the latter back towards the crime scene.

 

“Well, let's get our asses back in there before we both get suspended on yer first case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, there I am again. I have a whole nice story planned for this and im excited to get it rolling:3
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment, they mean so much to me ❤


	3. Slow progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor get's frustrated.

Progress on the case was slow. Very slow.

Connor had managed to calm himself enough, pull himself together enough to step back into the flat and analyze the body. But there was such a difference between this crime scene and the ones he had seen before. And not in a good way.

He almost choked on the blood as he analyzed it, metallic taste filling his mouth like a rotten blanket. He had trouble keeping his hands from shaking as he collected and scanned the evidence he could find. Which wasn’t much. The whole place was empty and had been thoroughly cleaned recently. Barely anything. No dirt, no dust. Only blood, a body. And then Connor had spotted it, a small, black, plastic box, attached to the ceiling, hidden in a corner.

 

“What ya think that is?” Hank had asked with a curious look, having stayed close to Connor the entire time, watching him with piercing eyes.

 

And Connor didn’t know. He couldn’t scan it, couldn’t pierce its outer shell. He could only put it into a plastic bag and take it to the precinct.

 

And even after that, things didn’t go well. The dead woman had no family, no friends, no anything. She seemingly had just popped into existence shortly before being slaughtered and torn to shreds. The weapon used to attack here was nowhere to be found, neither at the scene of the crime nor anywhere near the apartment house. It became clear that she hadn’t been living in the apartment, had been brought there from somewhere else to be finished off, but where she had been attacked, that was a question neither Connor nor Hank could answer. No idea who the woman was, what killed her and where she was first attacked, at the end of the day, Connor noticed that he had barely anything to show, barely anything that could be considered progress. No, not even barely anything. He had basically nothing. Hours of work, and nothing at all. No progress, no leads, just, simple and plain, nothing.

 

“So, let’s see what we got so far..:” Hank muttered, stretching in his chair before throwing a disgruntled look into his empty coffee cup. “Fuckin’ hell, empty already…?”

 

“You already had four cups today, such a high intake of caffeine…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, bad for my health, will make my heart exploded, yadda yadda. Now let’s take a look at the case.”

 

Connor pulled up the most recent files on his terminal, letting his eyes wander over the information for a moment, before turning back to Hank.

 

“We know she was attacked somewhere else and brought into the apartment afterwards to be killed there. The apartment has been empty for months, and the rest of the building almost abandoned. “

 

“Perfect spot to get rid of her probably didn’t expect her to make so much noise and alert some neighbours.”

 

Connor sighed. It seemed so...terrible. Not only taking somebodies life but dragging it out, taking them somewhere where there wouldn’t be any interruptions.

 

“Ya ok?”

 

“Yes..it’s just...hard to understand how somebody could do something like that.”

 

“Some people’re pretty fucked up, lemme tell ya.” Hank threw a crooked smile at Connor, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout not understandin’, would be more concerned if ya did, y’know?”

 

Connor’s LED spun yellow. He partially understood what Hank meant, but at the same time, he wished he did know how somebody could do something like that. How somebody could just pull out a weapon and rip out another person’s life, drain their blood out of their body, peel their skin off like it was just a wrapper around a piece of candy.

 

“Con? Hey! Con!” Connor jerked out of his thoughts at the older man’s shout. He hadn't meant to space out, he never did. But it kept happening.

 

“Sorry, what did you say?”

 

“Nothin’, yer glowy thing just went red for a moment there.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Connor sometimes forgot how easy it was for others to see his emotions, just taking a look at his LED told most enough. He didn’t mind too much though, he could scan other people’s expressions pretty well himself, it only took him moments, the blink of an eye. Others seeing his LED just evened out the playing field.

 

“I just…”

 

“Kept thinkin’ ‘bout the poor woman?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Connor took a deep breath, trying to sort his thoughts. It was still such a strange thing to openly be allowed to talk about what bothered him. Hank even encouraged him. But it was still hard, still strange. Connor still tried though. He had promised Hank, he had promised to no longer keep the things that bothered him to himself. And he wouldn’t break his promise.

 

“I just..I was made to understand. It’s...hard”, hard wasn’t the right word, Connor thought. It was closer to ‘uncomfortable’, closer to doing something he had too little experience doing. “It’s hard to accept that some things I will never understand, some things I _should_ never even understand.”

 

“Hm..”

 

“I just...I wish I was already able to deal with that.”

 

Hank snorted at that.

 

“Yeah, I feel ya on that. Everbody whishes they already knew how to do shit, deal with shit.”

 

“I wish I wouldn’t fail so often.”

 

He really did. Dealing with failure was something Connor was especially bad at. He just...He couldn’t get out of his head what would have happened to him the last tie he had failed if he hadn’t found Jericho if he hadn’t found a way to continue his mission.

Connor shook his head lightly. This wasn’t the time or the place for thoughts like that.

 

“We all fail sometimes, Connor. ‘s alright, as long as ya try to do better,” Hank threw another sullen look into his mug, rubbing his eyes. “ ‘lright. Let’s get this over with quickly if yer not lettin’ me have ‘nother coffee.”

 

The smile on Connor’s face told Hank that there would definitely be no coffee. But it was alright, Hank had his warm bed to look forward to now, after all.

 

“Ok, what else we got before we went all philosophically ‘n shit.”

 

Connor’s eyes flicked over to the terminal quickly, ignoring the fact that he had the information stored in his head.

 

“She was probably killed out of anger.”

 

“No shit.”

 

“You asked what else we got, I answered.”

 

“Well, fuck ya too.”

 

Connor’s mouth stretched a bit wider, before falling back into a neutral expression.

 

“She was killed out of anger, as I’ve already said, practically torn into pieces by a very sharp weapon and knocked out with a hard, blunt object before her death,” Connor winced as the image of the dead body appeared in his mind again. She had been mutilated beyond recognition. “The blade of the weapon was about 6 inches long and very sharp, used to first stab her multiple times into the chest and the upper abdomens, before the culprit used the weapon to cut and slash her body, even after death.”

 

“Damn.”

 

Pulling up the pictures of the few possessions the victim had on her, Connor felt a pang of something...cold in his chest. No bag, no wallet, no money. No family, no friends. Connor had a theory.

 

“I think the victim was homeless.”

 

“Hmm, ya think?” Hank scratched his beard. “ ‘caus I do too. Had nothin’ on her, what was left of her clothes was old and worn. Nobody lookin’ for her, ‘t least nobody who would contact the DPD.”

 

Connor’s eyes drifted back to the picture of the victim. Alone, no home, no family, no friends. Connor was sure if he hadn’t agreed to go with Hank, he would have been leading a similar life. Hiding from humans and other androids, too ashamed to face his own kind openly, too scared to come close to other humans. Connor shook his head again. Why couldn’t he focus? He had always been able to focus on his missions.

But that had been a different life, only months ago, which felt like years, decades.

 

Connor brought the last picture on his terminal to the foreground, enhancing it until it filled the whole screen.

 

“So...that weird, black box. Fuckin’ weird thing to find there, hu?”

 

“Yes”, Connor couldn’t stop some of his frustration from seeping into his voice. This one, single piece of evidence that could actually lead them somewhere, was the one Connor just couldn’t figure out. “It seems to have been built specifically so androids wouldn’t be able to scan it. I can...see it. Feel it. But it’s almost like it isn’t really...there.”

 

“Creepy.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Connor just had to find out what this thing was. It could be just a box. It could be another dead end. But it might actually bring them a step forward, actually be some progress. And Connor needed to make progress. He had to. He couldn’t fail. Not again. Never again.

Hank’s low groan broke the silence, as the older man got up from the chair, stretching his stiff back.

 

“Fuck, hate this damn chairs..” he mumbled, turning towards Connor with a stifled yawn. “So, ya ready to head home? Already been here ‘n hour longer then we have to, ‘n I dunno about you, but I'm beat.”

 

Connor didn’t move, his gaze still fixed on the picture of the black box.

 

“Hey! Earth to Connor. Let’s get outta here.”

 

Connor’s LED, having been stuck in a slow yellow, pulsed red for a second, before melting back to yellow.

 

“I’m staying.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m staying a bit longer, I have to...I might have a new theory I want to look into.”

 

Connor knew, even without looking up, that Hank was throwing him a concerned look, his beard twitching as the older man bit down on his lip.

 

“Ya..alright?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Listen, that was a pretty nasty sight back then, ya…”

 

“I’m alright, Hank.”

 

“Connor..”

 

“ _Lieutenant_. I am fine. I just want to look into something. I will join you at home, shortly.”

 

Hank sighed. There was no winning this.

 

“Ugh, fine, do yer thing Mr workaholic. Meet ya at home”

 

Grabbing his jacket, Hank gave Connor’s shoulder a firm pat, before heading towards the front doors. Connor didn’t look after him, keeping his gaze firm on the picture on his terminal.

 

He had to make progress. Now.

 

\------

 

Connor hadn’t come home the first day, dismissing Hank’s questions with the excuse that he had come home and left early again. Hank knew it was a lie. Connor knew too. But trying to make the android tell the truth turned out to be an impossible task, one that made Hank head for the breakroom with a frustrated huff. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how much of a pain in the ass Conor could actually be. They worked in silence for a few hours, before Hank decided to head home. Without Connor. Again.

 

The second day progressed almost the same, apart from the fact that Hank was more persistent...or rather tried to be more persistent. Connor deflected each of Hank’s arguments, ignoring the detective once he ran out of excuses.

 

The third day, was the kicker. Hank entered the precinct to find Connor’s table empty, a stack of empty energy drinks littering the usually clean surface. Hank snorted. Connor kept bugging Hank about his caffeine intake, but the android himself was pouring that shit down his throat like there was no tomorrow.

Sighing, Hank threw his jacket over his chair, heading straight for the evidence room, where he had seen the other spend most of the past few days, to try and talk some sense into Connor again. He wouldn’t accept Connor’s weak excuses again. He would get that idiot home today, no matter if Connor wanted to or not.

 

As expected, Connor stood in the middle of the evidence room, turning the black cube in his right hand, looking over it again and again. His LED was yellow, blinking, twitching. Hank stepped into the room, hand’s in his pockets, slowly wandering over to the androids stuff form. And unnatural warmth was radiating off of the latter.

 

“So...still workin’ hard I see..”

 

There was no reply, Connor’s LED blinking as rapidly as before as he kept turning the box around and around and around.

 

“Yer runnin’ rather warm there”, Hank stepped next to Connor, turning his own gaze towards the black box himself, keeping his posture as casual as he could.

 

“I’m not going home. I still have work to do.”

 

“Hey, hey, didn’t say anythin’ ‘bout goin’ home. Just said yer rather warm, kinda like my old laptop when I left it on for too long.”

 

Connor sighed.

 

“So. Got anythin’ new? Ya’ve been practically livin’ at the bullpen for the past few days, after all.”

 

Connor’s LED flashed red for a moment, settling back into a now darker yellow.

 

“No.”

 

“Hm,” Hank hummed, scratching his beard. “How ‘bout ya take a break, clear yer head, look at the whole thing ‘gain afterwards?”

 

Another red flash.

 

“No.”

 

Hank grunted with frustration.

 

“Con, come on..”

Red. Red. Red. Red.

 

“I said _no_!”

 

Turning towards Hank with one swift motion, Connor slammed the box down on the table in front of him, hard and Hank sighed as concern bloomed in his chest. Connor looked tired. Not just tired. He looked exhausted. Dark circles smudged under his eyes, making them look hollow and sunken in. His pale skin was turning a strange shade of grey, slickering slightly around the edges as if he was a badly rendered character from a video game. His tie was loosened, the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. His mouth was opened just a fraction, his breath coming out in hot pants as he tried to cool his overheating body.

 

“Why not? You look like god damn death warmed over!”

 

Hank was starting to lose his cool. Which wasn’t anything unusual for him, but he had really hoped to not let frustration overtake him this time. A screaming match wouldn’t get them anywhere.

 

“Because I have made no progress yet!” Connor stepped away from the table, fast strides that stopped shortly, turned and paced into another direction, his hand running through his already messy hair.

 

“So what? Ya can’t solve a case in a few days, sometimes not at all. It happens.”

 

“No, it can’t happen! I need to make progress!”

 

Connor was now tearing his hair with both of his hands, his face twisted into an angry grimace. This wasn’t normal. Hank had never seen the kid so unlike himself, the usually calm but curious demeanour completely gone, his expressive eyes now tired and dull. The older man was starting to really get worried now and as usual, his worry came out as anger and frustration.

 

“No, ya need to take a  fuckin’ break! Yer not gonna make any progress if yer dead on yer feet!”

 

Connor growled, actually growled, turning sharp on his heels to walk towards Hank.

 

“I can’t take a break!” Connor hissed, looking Hank straight into the eyes with an unblinking, burning gaze. “You might be able to just walk out of here a the end of the day, not caring if you made any progress.” Hank felt something starting to boil over in him as Connor jabbed a finger into the older man’s chest. “One of us has to do actual work here!” Another jab. “One of us has to get this investigation to go somewhere!” Hank grit his teeth at the next jab. He was so close to snapping. “One of us actually cares about losing their fucking job!”

 

Alright. That was it. That was all the restraint Hank could muster. He grabbed Connor’s hand as the latter tried to push Hank, pulling him closer so they were face to face.

 

“What the actual fuck, Connor? The hell got into you?!”

 

“The hell got into me?! You leave every day, not caring the slightest about making no progress!”

 

Hank’s upper lip twitched into a snarl. “Ya think I don’t care? Ya think I don’t lie awake, thinking of that poor woman, ripped to shreds ‘n how we’re not a step closer to catching the bastard who did it?!”

 

“You don’t seem to care enough to stay and work. You don’t seem to care enough about making any progress to put effort into this. You don’t seem to care about what’s on the line here, about being fired, deactivated, thrown out!”

 

“Deacti-...Connor, the fuck ya talkin’ about?”, Hank’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. But Connor wasn’ listening, the arm Hank was still holding trembling in his grip, the android’s eyes wide and looking somewhere past Hank, pupils shuddering and shaking as his LED pulsed a brighter and brighter red with each cycle.

 

“You don’t seem to care, because why should you. You are human. You will live if you fail.”

 

Staring at Connor, Hank didn’t move as the other pulled his hand from the older man’s grasp. Huddling in on himself, Conor started pacing again, arms pressed close to his chest, wringing his hands, chewing his lower lip.

 

“You don’t have to live knowing that each of your failures brings you closer to your end. And I’m already past that, I am already way past that.”

 

Connor stopped pacing, fixing his gaze onto the floor as he let his arms drop to his sides, unceremoniously.

 

“I don’t want to die;” his voice was small, shaking and so endlessly tired.

 

Hank felt his heart clench in sympathy as he stepped forward, pulling Connor into a tight hug without another word as he pressed his hands between the android’s shoulder blades, stroking over his back in comforting circles.

 

“ ‘s that what this shit’s about? Yer scared yer gonna get scrapped if ya don’t bring in results immediately?”

 

Connor nodded against Hank’s shoulder. “I as always been like that Back when I told you that I will be deactivated if I don’t find Jericho..it wasn’t just a sudden decision made by Cyberlife,” he took a deep breath, exhaling it again, Hank feeling the hot air hit his shirt. “I was always reminded of it, a constant thought stuck in my head. Progress or death.”

It had always been there, just in the back of his mind, only leaving him alone as he deviated, but Connor still felt as if it was there. That little voice, repeating the same thing over and over again. “You fail, you will be replaced.”

 

“Even back then, even back before I could feel I… it was enough to push me towards completing my mission, no matter what was on the line.”

 

“Shit...but ya didn't. Ya let deviants escape, ya actually listened to me...sometimes...barely.”

 

A small smirk stretched Connor’s mouth.

 

“Because, even before deviating, you mattered to me. And making sure I wouldn’t upset you, and especially that I would keep you safe, was...more important than staying alive.”

 

Hank let out a low chuckle.

 

“Damn, son. That’s cheesy.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Connor felt Hank’s hands shift, already missing the contact even before the latter held him by the shoulders and pushed Connor away. They both locked eyes again, but with less anger than before, no building frustration rising between them like a thick wall.

 

“Con. Listen. Ya can’t work yerself to the bone,” Hank was shitty at comfort, he knew it. He was even shittier at pep talks. But that seemed to be part of letting a confused and emotional android into your life, sometimes you had to give them a helping hand.

 

“But what if…”

 

“No. Shut. Listen to me,” Hank exhaled sharply through his nose. “Ya can fail. Hell, er _allowed_ to fail. Everybody here has that handful of cases they just can’t crack, everybody here hit dead ends until there was nothing left to do, before.“

 

Connor shifted uncomfortably, his eyes travelling down to Hank’s shirt collar.

 

“Nobody’s gonna deactivate ya. ‘n I know that it sounds like hollow words ‘n shit at the moment, but I just want you to trust me for now, ok?”

 

“I don’t...”

 

Hank groaned.

 

“Look at me. Look at Christ...hell, look at Gavin. We all fucked up so often, and still we’re still kicking, haven’t even been fired yet.”

 

“You are humans.”

 

“Yeah, we sure are. But have you seen any of the androids working here, get deactivated?”

 

“I.. I don’t think so..”

 

“See, not even the guy who spilt coffee all over Fowler got fired.”

 

“I..Yes.”

 

“So, ‘nother try. Ya gonna trust me on this? Trust me that I won’t let anybody put a finger on ya?”

 

“I...ok.”

 

“Say it like ya mean it.”

 

“Ok, Hank.”

 

“Alright. Nobody’s gonna touch ya as long as I’m around, deal?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Great”, Hank gave Connor a pat on both arms, before letting go of the android.

 

“Ya will get used to it. Just...talk to me, ok? Told ya before that ya can do that.”

 

“I will, I just… I don’t understand.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I want to but.. I often don’t know how to start.”

 

Hank snorted.

 

“How ‘bout ‘Hey, Hank I think I’m gonna die if I don’t solve this case, ya think that’s fucked up or ok?”

 

“Alright...I will...talk to you more often.”

 

“Just maybe don’t actually open with ‘I think I’m gonna die’, or I might get a heart attack..”

 

Connor laughed weakly in return as Hank turned towards the evidence desk, taking a look at the plastic box. Taking a glove out of a small drawer, he took it into his hand, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at it closer.

 

“Ah, shit.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“I think ya broke it..”

 

Indeed, there was a rather large crack in the plastic now, running almost the whole way around.

 

“Shit,” Connor really understood why Hank swore so much, it was sometimes the only thing that could possibly be said. Taking the small cube into his hand, Connor felt something strange, something different than before. He actually felt the cube this time, as if he had been holding it inside of cotton the whole time before, and was not able to touch it for the first time. Connor stroked over the crack. The crack, yes, that was what caused this, that was the part that felt the most solid, the most real.

Digging his fingers into it, Connor began pulling the two halves of the box, away from each other.

 

“Hey, hey, hey, the fuck ya doin’?”

 

Connor ignored him, pulling the plastic harder, until suddenly, with a snap, it gave, revealing a strange inside. One of the sides was see-through from inside, all other clad in a velvety material. Cables were piled inside, a mess of different colours. And resting inside, filling up most of the space was…

 

“ ‘s that a fuckin’ camera?”

 

I clearly was one.

 

“It is...not a new model,” Connor’s LED practically crashed at the speed it changed from red to yellow, twitching blue in between. “It’s larger than most cameras currently on sale, but it has been produced not a long time ago, and not used, or only sparsely used before.”

 

“Not new, but produced recently...so just a cheap camera?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“A cheap camera somebody stuck into some weird, high tech gadget, so androids wouldn’t be able to detect it.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is there a..whatever those things are called..”

 

“A memory card?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“No. Everything has been transmitted wirelessly to another system. There is no footage in here.”

 

Hank raised his eyebrows.

 

“Why in the fuck would anybody do that? The victim wasn’t an android. The place wasn’t owned by an android...or anybody in general, so no reason to hide it from ya guys,” Hank ran a hand over his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he gave the camera an annoyed look. “There isn’t even any footage we can get from it to take a look at the fuckin’ bastard who killed that woman. Why bother hiding it like that?”

 

“Maybe...Hm. It is something we should find out.”

 

Connor smiled as his LED spun from yellow to blue, placing the camera and box back into a small, plastic bag before throwing it into an opening in one of the walls.

 

“Good idea, sendin’ it to forensics I mean. Those guys probably know...shit, ‘bout this.”

 

“I’m certain they have a realistic chance to track down the system the camera was transferring it’s footage too.”

 

“Yeah, they sure do...So, how’bout that break now? I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

 

Feeling some of the fear drain out of him, Connor nodded in agreement. He finally made some progress, they finally had a lead.

Walking up and past the rows of desks, Hank and Connor headed for their chairs to grab their coats, as they argued where they should go for lunch. But their plans were immediately interrupted as a booming voice called from behind them.

  


“Anderson, Connor, into my office! Now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, shit's slowly starting to go down.
> 
> \-- I live for comments and would appreciate it greatly if you left one --


	4. A guide on how to ruin the day for two cops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fowler talks. Connor and Hank are not happy.

“Ah, shit…”, Hank rubbed the back of his head, grumbling a few well-picked swears under his breath. “Wonder if he found out that I kicked the shit out of the fuckin fridge, stupid thing freezer burned everything..”

 

Dropping his jacket again, the older detective walked towards Fowler's office, hands in his pockets as he dragged his feet over the sparkling floor.

 

It took Connor a few moments longer to shake himself out of his thoughts, thousands racing through his head at once in only nanoseconds. Even though he believed Hank's words, believed that Hank wouldn't let anybody lay a finger on him, he still couldn't...stop the fear.

Amanda had so often told him that he would be replaced, deactivated, how only the mission mattered, made him fear his death while making him fear the fear itself.

It was hard to avoid the thoughts, the thoughts that told him that he failed, somewhere, somehow, and now he was being called to receive his punishment. 

And what made that fear worse was that part of him that…would just accept it. Whatever the punishment was, no matter if deactivation - death, he was alive, he wasn't just a machine - or not. The part that was still believing Amanda's words, the part that almost missed her presence, missed being told what to do, his feelings being purposively manipulated. Even after months of freedom, Connor still craved it, pushing those thoughts away, concentrating on Hank, Sumo and on all the new experiences he made every day.

 

Blinking rapidly as a wave of thoughts shot through him in less speed then it took Hank to let go of his jacket, Connor allowed himself to stay still for a few moments of silence, almost savouring the feeling of dread pooling around his Thirium pump. 

He could run, he could hide, avoid everything and leave. But instead, Connor straightened his tie, a new that had caught his eye only weeks ago, and followed Hank.

 

The room was, as always, empty and cool, professional and intimidating. Connor barely caught himself from moving towards the corner, reminding himself to sit down, sit down like he was supposed to...no allowed to. Or maybe both. Deviating seemed like jumping into new programming, one he didn't know the rules of yet. Things out of his control, dictating his behaviour.

Connor shook his head. He really had to go in to stasis soon, push those thoughts back into the farthest corner of his mind. The thoughts that made him wish back to the safety of his programming while fearing the control Cyberlife had over him back then at the same time. 

Fowler's voice pulled Connor back to reality, the captain staring at him with the same, calculating, cold but at the same time, strangely warm look he gave most of his officers.

 

“Connor? Do you require any repairs?”

 

Connor raised his brows at the question, moving his gaze from the Captain to Hank, who had sat down in the other of the two chairs. Hank only grimaced lightly, tapping his own temple in the same spot where a LED would be blinking and spinning. Connor felt his cheeks heat, a preprogrammed response that he had deemed unnecessary, kept it deactivated, but which now, after deviating, refused to let itself be turned off, like so many others. 

 

“I do not, it was only a minor...glitch in my system. But thank you for your concern, sir,” Connor looked at Fowler, his face not betraying the embarrassment and fear bubbling up behind the facade, Connor manually overriding his LED, forcing it back to a fake blue.

 

“Well, if that's so..” Fowler glanced at Connor for only another fragment of a moment before turning his attention to the terminal on his desk without a shift in his expression.

 

“I'm pulling you both off the case.”

 

A short moment of complete and utter silence, dripping with a sudden spike in both men's stress, emotions going haywire, rendering them mute and paralyzed for mere seconds before all hell broke loose.

 

“YA BASTARD, WHAT DO YA THINK YA DOIN’?!” Hank started off in the same way he started off most of his shouting matches with the captain.

 

“I'm doing my damn job, and you know that! Now sit down and watch your fuckin’ tone, before I make that novel of a disciplinary record even longer than it already is!” Fowler's voice was calm but not lacking in volume, the man long used to this kind of outbursts.

 

“Yer goddamn job doesn't include ruinin’ all the progress we made by suddenly givin’ the case to some other assholes!”

 

“It does if there is a case with a higher priority that requires your full, damn attention!”

 

Hank let his emotions show freely, the way he usually did, when it came to anger and annoyance at least, pulling all attention on himself, making both men oblivious to the way Connor reacted to the news. Not at all. Not even a twitch, a breath, his body completely frozen on the outside while a storm tore through him internally.

He failed. He actually failed. But this time there was no Amanda, telling him he would get deactivated if he made one more mistake, no Cyberlife, waiting to replace him, throw him away like the now obsolete piece of plastic that he was. Now there was only the fact that he failed and the fear, the lack of information about why or what would happen next. 

He wished Amanda was still there. He wished he was still under her control, no matter in what risk it would put those close to him. He wished he knew what would happen, knew what to do. He wished he was still being controlled, his fate out of his hands, barely mattering to him in his bubble of numb carelessness for everything that wasn't part of his mission.

Maybe he could reactivate Amanda...Maybe she wa-...

 

“Connor, for fuck's sake, don't just sit there! Back me the fuck up!”

 

Connor snapped out of his frozen state, throwing a confused look between the two others on the room. Hank was on his feet, hair wild, hands gesticulating wildly, Fowler still sitting but ready to rise on his own feet at any moment, his face a mix of annoyance and disapproval. Shaking his head, as Connor continued to stare without a word, Hank turned back to the captain, letting his anger flow freely.

 

“What in the hell has more priority then some poor girl getting practically torn into pieces!?”

 

“One that I assign a higher priority to!”

 

“Ah, fuck you, Jeffrey!”

 

“This is my last warning, calm down or I will note this in your disciplinary file!”

 

“Gentlemen!” Connor suddenly found himself on his feet, the thought of his failure - Was it his? Did he cause this? - harming Hank in any way, even if it was through an addition to the man's already thick disciplinary folder, pushing him back into motion.

“Sir,” Connor continued in a calmer tone, holding his hands towards Hank in a placative while turning his head to face Fowler, ”we will transfer all our findings to the evidence room and leave all evidence in our possession in there as well.”

 

Shushing Hank, as the other man opened his mouth in protest, Connor straightened his tie, pushed down his fear and swirling thoughts with one firm hand and took a deep breath. He had to be professional, he was made to be professional, he wouldn't fail that as well.

 

“But I would like to ask why we are so suddenly needed for another case”, but being professional also included finding the reason for his failure. He couldn't just let this go. He needed to know. He had to keep this from happening again. “There are many other capable officers who could take that new case.”

 

Fowler's upper lip twitched, his eyes wandering between Connor, standing still and calm, as if he was negotiating with a dangerous suspect, and Hank, who huffed out a breath, his eyes sparkling with some curiosity as they stayed glued on Connor. 

 

“But most others in this station haven't dealt with android related murders before,” Fowler sighed, moving his attention back to his terminal.

 

“Android related...there have been more androids goin’ apeshit?!” Hank knit his brows together as he leaned closer to the terminal himself, squinting his eyes as the first pictures popped up. “Jesus Christ..”

 

Connor felt something inside him freeze, the same horror pouring over him as it had back on the crime scene, as he first saw the mangled body of the woman, lying in a pool of her own blood.

But this time it wasn't only because of the gruesome sight, but because of something deeper.

 

“The first body has been found only a few weeks after the revolution, first mistaken for a..casualty from the confrontations between androids and humans”, Fowler began, scrolling to the next picture,” But after the second one was found some weeks later, with almost the exact same injuries..”

 

“A serial killer?” Connor swallowed hard at the pictures in front of him.

 

Hank shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“A fuckin’ android serial killer...what the actual fuck..”

 

Connor gave Hank a quick look, his processor filtering through the net for all the androids that had been deactivated, broken, hurt because of humans, through the few that were actually listed somewhere.

 

“It isn't the first time humans have hurt androids.”

 

“This’ kinda different. Lookit'em Con, fucking mangled beyond recognition.”

 

It was true, the androids had been cut open, wires and tubes on display, their limbs stripped of synthetic flesh and skin. But the worst were the heads, split open, parts of their processor hanging out like grotesque vines, various objects, objects that had no business sticking out of the open hole, were jammed into parts of what were essentially the androids brains. Blue blood, dried but still visible to Connor's eyes, smearing over the whole body, biocomponents taken apart into pieces, strewn through the open torso.

It wasn't just violence, it was more, it was new, it was...terrifying. It was a look into hell, one Connor wished he could immediately forget.

 

Fowler cleared his throat, scrolling to the next picture, the date only days after the previous one. This body was less mangled, only one gaping hole in the head, revealing an empty head, only stray wires left from what had once been inside.

 

“After this one had been found, we were pretty sure it was one and the same guy doing this”, Fowler ignored Hank’s muttered ‘wow, really…’ with only a slight twitch of his left eye,” but that was that, no more bodies for months.”

 

Both Hank and Connor knew that something must have happened for this case to suddenly being handled with such urgency.

 

“Has another body been found?”

 

“Just a few hours a call went in, a homeless woman saying she had seen somebody drag large, full trash bags into the cellar of the house she was currently sleeping in,” Fowler closed the pictures on his terminal, folded his hands in front of him on the table and turned his gaze towards the two man in front of him. “We send somebody to check, and they found not only one, but around 20 bodies, all showing similar injuries as the three that had been found a few months ago.”

 

“Fuck,” Connor was almost surprised at himself, not used to a word to just slip out of his mouth without his permission. He no longer cared that he had failed, he ignored the fear of it happening again, instead letting something hot boil up in him at what he just heard.

 

  1. 20 bodies. And three more _months_ before this. And nobody had made any progress, not even treating it as a crime until the second body had turned up.



 

“That's all”, Fowler made a dismissing motion. “Get your asses to the crime scene, and I better not hear any more shit about this from you, Hank.”

 

Hank got on his feet, but before he could grumble anything in return, or even just flip his boss off, the way he had done more often than anybody should have gotten away with, Connor was already on his feet and at the door. His face was passive, a mask again, his voice seemingly calm, but strained under layers of fake politeness.

 

“Of course, captain. We are already on our way.”

 

And out he was, walking towards his desk with fast steps, grabbing his jacket without stopping and turning towards the exit, pulling his jacket on in one fluid motion. Hank had trouble keeping up with him, feeling his not yet ebbed away anger bubble up again. 

It took him a few minutes to catch up to Connor, following the android out into the parking lot and up to his car.

 

“Where the fuck are ya runnin’ off to!?”

 

Even though Connor had his back turned towards Hank, the latter could see the brightly glowing, red LED as well as he could see the tremble in the androids shoulders, hear the breath hissing through clenched teeth. 

 

“Connor! The hel-...!?”

 

“23.”

 

“What..?”

 

“23 androids had to die before anybody deemed it necessary to act.”

 

“Con…”

 

“We are still nothing, aren't we?” turning around, his LED throwing shadows over his contorted face, Connor snarled at Hank, his eyes slits, his mouth twisted in anger. “23! Maybe more! And only now it was deemed necessary to look into it, to find and stop the one doing this!”

 

“Son, listen, I know it's fucked up..”

 

“No! What really is  _ fucked up _ is the fact that out there are the friends and families of at least 23 androids, waiting for somebody to bring them closure, to catch the one who took somebody from them, and only know, only fucking now we are being told to act.”

 

Connor ran his hands over his head, messing up his already ruffled hair even farther. 

 

“We are still not worth anything, still only machines, toys to be thrown away. Nobody cares if we break, nobody cares who breaks us!”

 

Watching as Connor slowly spiralled into hysterics, Hank took a careful step forward, his hands in front of him, open and outstretched.

 

“Shit like that doesn't change overnight, ya know that. But shit's changin', we are beein’ told to investigate it.”

 

“Yes, after  _ 23 _ androids have been murdered, torn apart as if they were only broken computers!”

 

Hank took another step forward.

 

“We are handlin’ this shit as murders now, not just property damage. Thing's are gonna keep changin’ like that, bit by bit.”

 

“How the fuck do you know that!?”

 

Another step, strong arms pulling a trembling form into an embrace, Connor's face being pressed into soft fabric that smelled so much like cheap beer, whisky and dog, so much like Hank and home, firm hands rubbing over his back.

 

“Because I was at the end of my line, 'n look at me now. Yeah, I still drink 'n eat crappy food, but I no longer wanna blow my fuckin’ brains out. All ‘caus a fuckin’ android bought me 'nother drink for the road ‘n ignored all of my orders,” Hank felt Connor fight against the hug, his breathing as quick as the rapidly flashing LED.

 

“Believe me, shit changes slowly, but it changes. It's shit 'n frustratin', but its not hopeless or some of that bullshit.”

 

Connor's struggle became weaker, his LED flashing the occasional yellow, his breath still quick, hissing through his teeth.

 

“ 'n throwin’ a tantrum won't do shit but make ya more miserable, trust me on that, I did often 'nough to know.”

 

Connor finally gave up on freeing himself from the embrace, letting his body slump listlessly against Hank's, his LED spinning yellow, red, yellow, red, yellow.

 

“So let's just check out that shithole, ya can lick some shit 'n catch the fucker that did this.”

 

Yellow, yellow, yellow, a muffled voice finally replying to Hank's monologue.

 

“It does sound...more productive than just...getting angry at what has happened and can no longer be changed.”

 

“ ‘xactly.”

 

Connor pushed himself out of the embrace, face slowly melting back to a calmer expression, LED glowing yellow, yellow, blue, yellow, blue, yellow, blue, blue, blue.

 

“Now get yer ass in the car before 'nybody sees us be all mushy, fucker's in there would never shut up 'bout that.”

 

\------

 

The crime scene was located in an old building, one that once had been a store of some kind, long empty and forgotten, rotting away behind fences and walls that hid it from eyes that only wanted to see the beautiful sides of the town.

Police Cars and officers swarmed outside, few inside, taking pictures and notes, looking around with uncomfortable expressions.

 

“So, ya go do yer fancy analyzes shit while I walk 'round 'n pretend t'be useful,” Hank smirked, clapping a firm hand on Connor's back, before marching off to talk to a nearby detective.

 

Keeping himself from commenting on Hank's remark about his own usefulness, Connor began to scan the scene, spotting a faint track of blue blood, following it down into what had to be the cellar.

Like the witness had reported, large, full trash bags littered the floor, the trail of blood leading up to the heap of shiny plastic.

Next to them, rowed up one next to the other, bodies. Androids, mangled as bad as in the pictures Flower had on his terminal, heads open, limbs stripped of flesh, parts broken and ripped, taken apart like a tinkerer would take apart an old watch.

 

Connor swallowed down the horror that rose up in him, started to take over his thoughts, gave himself a few moments to just stand there, watch as officers took pictures of the full bags, before pulling the body out to place it on a sheet, next to the others.

The horror, that first shock, slowly ebbed away to deep dread, allowing Connor to take a few steps towards the bodies, scan them, one after the other, take a sample of each androids Thirium, before scanning the rest of the room. 

His eyes fell on another black box, tucked into the corner of the room, attached to the ceiling. Another box that was shielded from his sensors, but this time so plain in sight, he wouldn't have needed them anyway, and he didn't need them to know that this one had to contain a camera as well.

 

Before he could even think of a way to get it down from the rather high cellar ceiling, Connor suddenly heard Hank call for him from upstairs.

 

“Hey, Con, there's somethin’ here ya should...uh...just get yer ass up here.”

 

Feeling a pang of worry at the strange strain to Hank's voice, Connor threw one last look at the small, plastic box, before turning and going back upstairs, his feet avoiding the faded stains of Thirium on the steps.

 

Connor found Hank in the second room of the ground floor, staring at the wall across from the door, arms folded, brow furrowed.

 

“Well, didn't expect to find this here..”

 

Turning his gaze towards the wall himself, Connor couldn't help but agree with Hank as he took in the sight, words splashed onto the bare wall with still drying paint.

 

_ “HELLO DEVIANT HUNTER” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> creepy messages in abandoned stores are definitely normal, don't worry Connor
> 
> \---
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment, they keep me writing


	5. How many problems can an android surpress until he can't handle it any longer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work is being done. Connor ignores his emotions. Hank makes it through a whole chapter without coffee.

Connor didn’t know how to react.

 

It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time. He had often found himself...confused on how to act. Stuck on what to do next. But this time it wasn’t because he couldn’t properly preconstruct the consequences, not because he didn’t know what reaction would be appropriate.

This time, it was because his entire mind had stopped, died down to a numb drone.

 

“Connor, listen...uhh…” Hank was at a loss for words himself. This was bad. Even not knowing what it meant, or who wrote this, even without any more information, it wasn’t hard to understand that this could not be good, no matter what.

 

Connor shook his head, trying to push his thoughts back into action again. He wasn’t afraid. He was...frozen. Beyond afraid. Ir felt as if his fear had just...evaporated. As if it had been too much, as if it had overflowed, leaving him just empty, numb, cold and confused.

 

“I seem to have been...watched.”

 

Hank raised his brows: “And ya seem to be takin’ this pretty well.”

 

“There is no use in mindlessly panicking. The faster we solve this case, the faster we can stop any danger that stems from whoever left this message for me .”

 

Biting his lower lip, lightly, Connor took a step forward, dipping his fingers into the wet paint, bringing the substance up to his mouth, touching it lightly to his tongue.

 

“Ugh, warn me next time..” Hank’s word had no real bite to them, the worry, still written on his face, betraying him. Connor tried not to pay any attention. He had to focus. If he was in danger, and the chances were high that he was, Hank would be too. They lived together, they spend so much time together. If he would be attacked, Hank would be close by. Would try to interfere. And Connor couldn’t risk that, he couldn’t risk Hank getting hurt.

So he had to push everything else away, ignore his and others emotions, worries, fear and confusion, and solve this case. If not to protect him and Hank, at least to protect the other androids, all those that were still alive and at risk. Connor couldn’t let another be ripped apart and thrown away like a broken doll.

 

Connor lowered his hand, having remained in that position only moments longer as those thoughts flew through his brain, letting the result of his analysis pop up in his vision.

 

“It’s paint.”

 

“No shit.”

 

“And Thirium.”

 

“It’s...wait...it’s not blue. It’s red, no trace of blue, but the paint is still fresh. How..?”

 

“It already evaporated...mostly. It had been added to the paint sometime before this has been written”, Connor let his gaze wander over the writing, “Looking at the state of the paint, it was written...only a short time after the witness reported what she had seen. The Thirium, looking at the amount still present, must have had been added...somewhere between this morning, and two days ago.”

 

“Why in the hell would that bastard add that shit to the paint. Can’t see that shit anymore, but the paint alone makes it still readable..”

 

Connor shook his head. Really, why would the culprit add Thirium to the paint? It would be evaporated, long before anybody could see it. And the fact that Connor could scan for it wasn’t that widely known...Unless.

 

“Unless there is more to it and the Thirium is just a...clue. A clue for me, personally, so I will find it.”

 

The world faded to grey as Connor began scanning, stepping farther away from the wall as he spotted lines that haven’t been visible before, letters, thin and squished, written between the already existing ones.

 

_H_ **I** _E_ **H** _L_ **A** _L_ **V** _O_ **E**    **F** _D_ **I** _E_ **N** _V_ **A** _I_ **L** _A_ **L** _N_ **Y** _T_ **F  O** _H_ **U** _U_ **N** _N_ **D** **Y** _T_ **O** _E_ **U** _R_

 

Connor’s LED flashed a dangerous red.

“I have...finally found you.”

 

Hank’s reaction was immediate as he turned away from the wall, starring at Connor with wide eyes.

 

“Shit!”

 

Shit, indeed.

 

“He is after ya, that much’s clear now, no way of sugar coatin’ this.”

 

No way, indeed.

 

“That’s it. I’m callin’ Fowler, he’s gotta pull us off the case again.”

 

No.

 

“Hank, no I can..!”

 

Turning to Hank, still scanning, Connor found his argument get stuck in his throat.

 

~~_LT. Anderson, Hank_ ~~ **_Dad_ **

_Born: 09/06/1985_

_Police Lieutenant_

_Criminal Record: None_

 

Not now. Not again and not now. Not in the middle of this, not with Hank so close to him. Connor blinked rapidly, rewriting what his scan told him.

 

**_LT. Anderson, Hank_** ~~_Dad_~~

_Born: 09/06/1985_

_Police Lieutenant_

_Criminal Record: None_

 

It kept happening. This stupid, strange bug, his processor rewriting Hank’s name to...that. Not letting him remove it completely. Not stopping, no matter what Connor did. And it kept happening more and more often, so often that Connor found himself using that..word, in his head, when thinking about Hank, whenever he was alone. Whenever it was safe to just...try it out. Because he couldn’t let Hank know. He _wouldn’t_ let the man know.

 

It had started only...days? Maybe a few weeks ago?

Connor wasn’t sure. He usually didn’t read all of the information displayed when he scanned Hank, only the one he currently needed, flicking and scrolling to the one he currently wanted to check. Heart rate, blood pressure, stress.

But one day, one day his eyes got caught on the first page of information, causing him to drop the cup he had been holding, one of the shards cutting his foot, but he didn’t notice until much later until Hank pointed out the blue footprints he had left in the kitchen.

_Dad_. Father. Papa.

He...didn’t know why he was surprised at this happening. He did look up to Hank. He did feel a great deal of affection for the man. He couldn’t deny that he saw the man as a father figure. That he...maybe even wished for that. To call Hank that word.

But every time he just as much as thought about it, the pictures, the one he had gotten Hank for Christmas, the ones tucked away in a wooden, little box, neat and safe at the back of Hank’s wardrobe, popped up in his head again. The face of the person who last has called Hank that word. Who had died. Who’s death had destroyed the man Hank used to be, had made himself be closer to death than to life for more then three, long years.

 

And Connor couldn’t, he just couldn’t replace that person. No matter how often Hank had reassured that he wasn’t a replacement and no matter how well Connor knew that Hank would never replace Cole...He still felt like he was intruding. That somebody else, somebody better deserved that place. That Hank deserved somebody better.

And even after being told that he was family, Connor just couldn’t fully accept it. He couldn’t let himself just...live like that. Hell, he couldn’t even fail at a task without practically collapsing trough fear, how was he supposed to just let himself be a person, a person with a life outside of his mission. With a life outside of work. With a life that included a family, friends, people he liked, people he disliked. How could he allow himself that, if all he had been build for was to finish his missions, succeed in them, nothing else nothing more? How could he live like he was alive if he couldn’t allow himself to be alive if he just couldn’t let go of the fear, if he almost longed back to being a machine, where the fear of death was present, but so much easier to handle, so much easier to ignore.

 

And how could he let himself call the only person he truly cared about a word that he couldn’t take back, that could ruin everything and leave him completely alone.

 

“Hey! Connor! Should I kick you to restart you or somethin’? Or are ya just zoonin’ out on me ‘gain, readin’ shit in yer head?”

 

Hank’s face was suddenly only inches away and Connor exited his scanning software, shoving everything else in the back of his mind. Mission.. _.Case_ first, personal matters second. He couldn’t fail again, no matter what Hank said. He had to succeed. He had to solve this. It was his responsibility, and even without his life on the line, even without the threat of deactivation looming over him, it still felt as if did. As if he had to succeed or die. As if he had to succeed, or he and other’s would die.

 

He could deal with this later. He could deal with everything else later. He had to finish his mission first. Case. Finish his _case_ first. He had to or...Well, what would actually happen if he didn’t? The only consequence he ever had was death. maybe it was still there?

But it didn’t matter. Nothing apart from the mission ever did. Even if it...did now, somehow, for some reason, he couldn’t afford anything else to matter, to distract him. Not until he was done. Not until he was done with this mission, and the next, and the next, and the next.

Connor snapped back to reality.

 

“Sorry, minor glitch.”

 

“Uhu, sure...Same kind of ‘glitch’ you had back in the evidence room?”

 

“...no.”

 

“Con..”

 

Connor interrupted Hank, pointing towards the stairs, down to the basement as he spoke: “I have found another camera downstairs, I might require your help to get it off of the ceiling.”

 

“Connor..”

 

“Hank. Later. Please..”

 

And with a sigh, Hank followed Connor down into the basement, his eyes fixed on the androids LED, spinning yellow, yellow, yellow, red.

 

\------

 

Hank was annoyed. Well, alright, he always was. Just a general state of annoyance, something other people called ‘grumpy’, or ‘moody’. Something he called ‘the world is shit and I hate it’. But this time he was annoyed by a specific thing, not just the general state of everthing. And that specific thing was - not for the first time - an object in Connor’s hand, spinning, spinning, spinning and twirling.

Hank had no idea how one, single person could be so incredibly fidgety and still refuse to admit it. Connor couldn’t sit or stand still for even a minute, always grabbing a coin from his pocket, or a random, small object near him, letting it dance over his knuckles, spin between his fingers, wander from hand to hand. This time it was a ballpoint pen, one of Hank’s, spinning between Connor’s forefinger and thumb, each spin accompanied by a click, as the android pressed the button at it’s top.

And even though Hank usually let Connor toy with whatever h fancied, he didn’t let him use it as a way to distract Hank from something. Especially not when that something was a steadily spinning, yellow, LED and glazed over eyes, frantically looking over information only Connor could see.

 

“Ok, stop that shit ‘n talk to me. Ya haven’t said a single word since coming back to the bullpen, ‘n the few words ya said before were not really a conversation.”

 

“I was merely thinking.”

 

“Yer thinkin’ too much.”

 

“I have to, it’s my job. You should know that it’s the same one as your’s.”

 

“ ‘n ya see me thinkin’ ‘bout that shit all the time?” Hank pushed himself out of his chair with a small grunt, walking around the two desks and leaning against Connor’s, his arms crossed. “Nope. ‘caus I actually talk to ya ‘bout it. ‘caus we’re partners, remember?”

 

Connor sighed, the twirling pen in his hand stopping as he looked up at Hank, finger’s now gliding over the pen’s surface, something the android often did to calm himself, to help him focus.

 

“I...Wanted to. I just got...well..distracted.”

 

“Yop, saw that. That’s why I reminded ya,” Hank let out a breath, “So, what we got so far.”

 

“We have found a rather disturbing message.”

 

“Yop. ‘n a camera. ‘nother one.”

 

“One at the scene of a murder, where a human was killed. One at the scene of a serial killing of androids. I...fail to see how they could be connected.”

 

“Well, look at it that way,” Hank pressed his lips together for a moment. He had an idea of how those two were connected, and he didn’t like it. “What if that poor girl was only killed, so ya would be there ‘n the camera could record ya.”

 

“Why..? How could anybody know I would be there.”

 

“Yer pretty well known. Freeing thousands of androids in the revolution. First android cop…”

 

“Consultant.”

 

“Whatever. Yer workin’ here ‘n ya get actualyl paid for it. ‘n yer gonna be a Detective in no time, once ya have the chance to do that test,” Hank flashed Connor a brief smile, patting the other on his shoulder. “But what I’m sayin’ is, people know ya work here. ‘n it’s not to hard to find out that yer on homicide, together with me. There’s not that many people currently workin’ on that, here.”

 

“But I might have not been on shift when the murder occured.”

 

“ ‘s just ‘bout timin’.”

 

Connor shuddered. That could only mean that he had been seen before, watched, monitored. But why watch him at all. Why murder somebody to get him to a room with a camera. Why not film him somewhere else.

 

“I don’t understand why that person had to get a...video of me, this way. They could have as well just...filmed me while..watching...me,” actually saying those words out loud left a strange aftertaste in Connor’s mouth.

 

“Hu..Maybe they’re just a sicko...but ya kinda right. Somethin’ seems off ‘bout that. Why not leave a message at the first crime scene.”

 

“Why kill a human, and not another android?”

 

Hank hummed in agreement.

 

“Alright, let’s leave it at that for now. Ya spend half of the day lickin’ bodies ‘n lookin’ deep in thought, mind fillin’ me in on that?”

 

Almost dropping his pen, Connor gave Hank a rather sheepish look.

 

“I’m..sorry about that. I was just..”

 

“Distracted?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Letting the skin peel off his hand, Connor pressed his bare chassis to the side of his terminal, transferring bits of data on it, pictures and text appearing on screen. Hank recognized some of the pictures, the faces of the dead android they had found, their names, date of death and other information written next to them.

 

“I have found that they have all been killed at different times,” Connor began, his face neutral, his voice clear and professional. It was easier that way, he had learned. Easier to just list of facts, separate them from emotions, deal with those later.  “The oldest murder has been committed at about the same time as the third and at that time presumed last, body had been found. The newest recently, about 28 hours ago.”

 

“Jesus Christ, that asshole kept killin’ all that time, ‘n nobody noticed…”

 

“It seems that way, yes,” Connor pushed down the twinge of anger that rose back up in him. So much time, so many victims, and only now there was something being done about it. It was just not fair. It was not fair that this android had been laying in that cellar for such a long time, dead and forgotten, nobody looking for them, apart from their friends and family. Nobody helping find them.

 

“The way they have been killed is also rather...disturbing.”

 

“Ya mean the way they have been basically shredded?”

 

“Not only that,” Connor swallowed nervously, licking his lips. He had analyzed the bodies, their injuries, and the result was already disturbing enough to just know, let alone say it out loud. “They didn’t die trough their injuries.”

 

“What? They are in pieces, Connor. How the fuck..”

 

“They were taken apart while still alive,” Connor said, suppressing a shudder, fighting to keep his voice steady. He just couldn't understand how somebody could do that. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again, making other’s suffer for hours before killing them.

 

“Holy shit...They tortured them?”

 

“I’m not sure why they did it… But the time they stayed...alive, after sustaining their first injury, varies greatly,” Connor brought one of the pictures on his terminal up to the foreground. “Some died after only hours.” He brought another picture to the front. “Some after almost a week…”

 

“A _week_? Fuck...even after all these years of dealin’ with sick sons of bitches, I sometimes can’t believe the shit some humans can do…”

 

“I find myself...unable to understand such behavior too.”

 

“Let’s hope we never will, there's ‘nough peopel out there who do, ‘n the world definilty doesn’t need more of those.”

 

Connor nodded with a sigh. He still wanted to understand, but he knew he would lose something of himself if he ever did. Shaking his head and focusing back on what he had learned so far, Connor displayed a list of different substances and objects on the terminal, all having been present on one or multiple of the bodies, but not in the empty building.

 

“They also seem to have been killed at..different locations, but all brought to that building to be..disposed of there.”

 

“Shit. So we gotta find those places...somehow. ‘lways hate that, almost fuckin’ impossible.”

 

Connor blinked, letting more data flow through his hand, into the terminal.

 

“I might not be able to pinpoint the exact locations of the murders, but I did find clues that point towar-...”

 

Pulling his hand back, as if he was shocked, Connor suddenly separated the connection between him and the terminal, his LED flashing a bright, fast yellow, his eyes blinking frantically. Then he turned towards Hank, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

 

“Hank!”

 

“What?!” Hank asked, bewildered.

 

“They have all been killed indoors. In places that, looking at the amount of mould, dust and dirt on them, haven’t been used for a long time.”

 

“And?”

 

“The woman. The woman we found in that abandoned apartment, with the same kind of camera attached to the ceiling as in the basement!”

 

“Ya don’t say...If it’s the same guy that killed her, and it’s the only human he killed so far.”

 

Connor nodded, excitement visibly coursing through him.

 

“Maybe she wasn’t the one he actually wanted to kill there!”

 

“Maybe she was his accomplice. Got in a fight, she lost,” Hank said grimly, “Or maybe she was there at the wrong place, at the wrong time. But I doubt that. Ya don’t accidentally walk to an almost abandoned building where ya don’t know anybody.”

 

“Maybe you are just being pessimistic. Not everybody is a bad person.”

 

“Most people are. Not sayin’ she was one for sure, but lookin’ at the state of the world it would make more sense for her to be in on it and fuckin’ up, then her just accidentally bein’ that bastards next victim.”

 

“Well, you are a good person. And so are all the other’s working at the precinct.”

 

Hank snorted.

  
“Well, whatever ya say,” he said, pushing himself away from the desk, his hands on his hips. “Well, how ‘bout we go have a talk with the guys handlin’ that case.”

 

Connor smiled. He was excited to have a lead, excited to make progress, satisfied as a surge of accomplishment rushed through him, so much better than the fear and disappointment failure always brought with it.

 

“Yes. We should learn everything about that woman that we possibly can. She was homeless and nobody has reported her missing yet. But she had to have some form of contact with other’s, friends, family, somebody.”

 

“Yop. ‘n were gonna find them.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hm, I wonder if Connor should try and work through his problems?  
> Me: *dumping more onto Connor*  
> Me: nope
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> |||Please consider leaving a comment. They keep me writing||||


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